Men and Fences
by theplanetmary
Summary: A superlong oneshot from the 'Like Us' universe. A contest of sexes via fence...


**Another one shot from the 'Like Us' universe. A playful contest of gender, there needs to be a little work done on the fences before Eli returns to the Middle East. This is taken from personal experience that in my many years of working on fences I have never NEVER had an easy time of it when I work with a male partner.**

* * *

**Men And Fences**

"**Throw your heart over the fence and the rest will follow…"**

**-Norman Vincent Peale**

**…**

Sam itched in his seat, twitching excitedly and looking straight ahead, his eyes fixed on a point where he knew the Wounded Heart Ranch was, his heart thumped happily in his chest.

"Calm down alright?" Dean snapped ill temperedly. The younger Winchester rolled his eyes and said nothing, knowing to well that it would only start a fight. Sam couldn't understand why Dean was so against going to Nevada, he'd been avoiding it at all costs for the better part of four months. It didn't make sense to the younger brother, especially when Dean spent at very least a few hours a week on the phone with Celia, Sam knew it was her not matter how much Dean denied it, Sam could hear them arguing.

Maybe that was it. Dean and Celia had both always been pig headed, but they had never argued a violently as they had in the last month and a half.

Dean had sworn Sam to a shut mouth or a slit throat if he told Celia about the deal at the crossroads. And Sam, reluctantly, kept it from her. But Sam knew, somewhere in his stomach, that she had the information right down to the finest details what had happened. Maybe knew more than the brothers themselves knew.

Maybe Dean was afraid of being attacked by Celia for what he'd done.

They probably still would have been far from Nevada and the Wounded Heart Ranch if she hadn't called late a few nights ago telling them that Elijah was being redeployed in a week.

Sam sighed at the tightening in his chest. He may not have a blood line attachment to Elijah but Sam couldn't help but feel like Nathaniel's son was another brother. The thought of him going back into a war zone was unnerving. Sam wondered what was wrong with Elijah that he kept volunteering to go back. He couldn't understand it and had spoken quietly with Celia for two hours on Dean's phone during the call to gather every thing she knew about the new tour and seeking an answer from her.

There was little comfort she could give him except to press into Sam that if he wanted to know he had to ask Elijah himself.

After he hung up Dean had wordlessly packed their things, checked out of the motel and drove straight through to Nevada from the very boarders of Maine where they had just finished with a self made witchdoctor. Dean was bleary eyed and ill tempered as they crossed the Nevada boarder from the east. Sam could tell because of Dean's foul mood that he was feeling trapped, backed into a corner.

Sam chewed his lip, looking around at his elder brother. His good mood, the feeling of actually returning home dampened sharply.

"Dean if you didn't want to go-"

Dean grunted, cutting him off and keep his eyes forward at the desert landscape and the town of Tuscarora in the near distance.

"Dean-"

"Shut up, Sam." Dean snarled, warningly at his sibling and gunned the Impala's engine with a dull roar.

The younger Winchester settled back lower in the leather seat and looked out at the world around them; he spotted several palomino and dun horses grazing in the long, yellowed grasses. The square heads lifted at the sound of the foreign engine of the Impala, their honey colored coats twitching and tails swishing flies away.

The tires ground into the gravel and dirt, they eased through the main street, down a back road of back roads towards Wounded Heart Ranch.

"Dean! There's Ceasefire!" Sam excitedly pointed out the window into the big paddock along side the road. Dean couldn't resist glancing out to lay eyes on the blue roan appaloosa. The stud was grazing quietly in the grass, tail swishing and one hoof kicked up in a turn back. Ceasefire lifted this hoof, stretching and kicking at the underside of his belly, scratching flies.

Dean turned the Impala into the gravel drive and, grinding passed the parked Ford Explorer and Celia's white Silverado truck, black stickers in the shapes of horse silhouettes on the tail gate. Dean parked and cut the engine on the far side of the truck. The brothers hesitated before climbing out.

"Dean, you didn't have to-"

"Yes I had to." Dean said with a finality that worried Sam. He looked imploringly at Dean in hopes for an explanation. Dean only climbed out of the Impala, he shed the leather jacket from his frame and tossed it onto the front seat, shutting the door with a snap. Sam watched Dean's back starting up towards the wrap around porch and back door, black tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The carved otter and his gold totem strung around his throat and motorcycle boots crunching in the earth. Sam scrambled out, dropping his own jacket on the passenger seat and jogged to catch up.

A sharp whinny cut through the air, Sam danced around, jogging backwards and smiling at the pretty paint mare.

"Homewrecker." He muttered, resisting the urge to race over to the rouge mare's round pen to rub her cheeks and jaw. The painted mare blew out of her nose, nickering and curling her lips over her teeth in a smile. Homewrecker reared up on her heels and whinnied again, pawing for Sam to come over.

Sam threw her an apologetic look before turning back to bound up the steps and stand next to Dean. The elder Winchester took a deep breath, hesitating before rapping his knuckles loudly on the hard wood of the screen door.

"Be Rosa. Be Rosa. Be Rosa." Dean chanted under his breath, shutting his eyes and praying, "Please. Please."

The sound of someone marching up on the other side of the door was far from the dainty steps of Rosa Greer.

The oaken door was pulled swiftly open and the screen pushed out. Dean flinched and backed up a step. Sam grit his teeth and hissed in sympathy as they looked up into the face of Elijah Greer. Skin tanned to a tawny color, raven hair cropped short in a growing military cut, his face lined with a few ancient scars and a new one across his temple from his first tour in Afghanistan. His jaw was a little softer than his father's had been. His shoulders as wide as Dean's and as tall as Sam, if not taller. His chest was a massive, muscular barrel under the thin fabric of a tee shirt. His jeans dark washed hugged wide hips and he was wearing his standard issue boots.

The dull look flashed into friendly surprise at seeing them, then his gray blue eyes hardened into sheer, deep seeded dislike. Elijah crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves riding up enough for Dean and Sam to see the tattoo of the Marine emblem, his company number and the words _non timebo mala, simper fi_.

"Hi Eli." Dean forced a smile and braced, clenching his stomach muscles.

"Dean." Eli said emotionlessly.

In a blur Elijah had slammed his fist deep into Dean's gut, well below the ribs and into the soft organs and tissues. Dean rasped in pain, doubling over and stumbling a step back. He shivered, hugging his stomach in starbursts of agony, breaking into a fit of desperate coughing trying to fill his lungs with much needed air and he simply wasn't able to breathe correctly. His eyes watering Dean made out the sight of Elijah's boots and jeans stepping towards him, Dean cringed, flinched and groaned as Elijah scruffed him like a cat, twisting his head back to glare in his face.

"I should gut ya like a deer." Elijah snarled.

"Hi Eli." Dean managed to mutter out. Elijah changed drastically, a light friendly, even loving smile on his lips and he gently patted Dean's shoulder in a brotherly way.

"Good to see ya Dean. Ya alright?"

"Will be." Dean muttered and stiffly moved to sit himself down on the porch swing, still favoring his stomach. Elijah chuckled, deep and warm, the sound like the rumble in a bear's chest. He turned and smiled at the younger Winchester.

"Sam." Elijah held open his arms

"Hey Eli." Sam stepped into the embrace, they patted each other heavily on the backs, squeezing briefly before stepped back and setting their hands on their hips.

"When can I just get a hug?" Dean asked, sitting back and trying to stretch his aching stomach muscles.

"When ya make an honest girl of my sister and marry her." Elijah sniffed back, a light smile played on his hips.

"Eli, that was ten years ago." Dean muttered, feeling pangs of guilt in his chest.

"Ya want me to hit ya again?"

"No." Dean said hurriedly.

"Smart boy." Elijah chuckled, twisted at his waist and whistled, a single deafening sound before he turned his attention back to Sam. "How are ya, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged, "Tired, running kind of ragged these last couple of months."

"We can tell, ya don't call." Elijah said with casualty but and underlying stiffness that Sam and Dean both easily read at hurt. Elijah was one of the, literally, toughest men they knew, Special Ops Marine and on his days at home the man of the house, hard working cattleman and one of the best local Hunters in Nevada. But the large soldier was tender hearted, his feelings easily hurt. Dean and Sam's absence and sheer lack of communication injured him deeply.

"Sorry, Eli." Dean said with some hope it would be enough. Elijah shrugged and stepped out of the way as the screen door swung open.

"Sam?"

"Hey Red." Sam chirped and threw his arms tightly around her, squeezing before stepping back. Celia looked startled but pleasantly surprised, smiling warmly at him before twisting to look for Dean. Her blood auburn hair was tied up in a messy pony tail around her ram's horns, a Houston Texans football jersey hung loosely on her torso and faded blue jeans hugged her curves suggestively. Dean cast his eyes down before she could catch them.

"Hey Eli, where's your mom?"

"She's around somewhere, c'mon. She likes fussin' over ya." Elijah motioned Sam to follow and they stepped through the screen door and into the house.

"That was an obvious escape." Celia muttered quietly, looking after her brother and Sam. Dean didn't speak or look at her. Head still bowed he folded his hands, wringing them. Celia swayed her stance and crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her biceps.

"Hey, Dean." She said a little awkwardly, licking her lips and her red eyes flicking to his frame then away.

"Hey." Dean muttered back.

"Eli punch ya in the gut?"

"Yeah." Dean muttered, flinching in remembered pain and rubbing his stomach with a sigh. Celia shifted over and settled into the porch swing next to him, she dropped her hands into her lap and sighed.

"I'm sorry 'bout fightin' with ya, Dean. 'Bout the stuff I said."

Dean grunted in return, still not looking at her.

"I…really appreciate ya comin' up here."

"You didn't think I would?" Dean spit out irritably. Celia looked startled and bristled a little.

"I had hoped." She said stiffly. Dean looked up; meeting her eyes for the first time in several long months, Dean had to admit it was good to see her. He reached out and carefully took her hand, pulling it into his lap and massaging it between his.

She sighed, her other hand twitching in her lap. "Why didn't ya come back sooner?" She asked, sifting over and into his side. "I missed ya."

"I'm here now." Dean pressed. She sighed, scooting back and hiking up her legs to sit cross-legged on the slowly shifting seat, then nodded.

"DEAN WINCHESTER!"

"Oh god." Dean muttered and nervously flinched.

"Better to just go get it over with. She's in a good mood." Celia pulled her hand back and used it to push Dean off of the porch swing and towards the door. Dean groaned as he settled his feet on the wood of the porch and started towards the screen door.

"This whole family likes abusing me." Dean muttered.

"'Cause we love ya." Celia shrugged, Dean rolled his eyes and stepped into the kitchen, plastering a winning smile on his face.

"Hey Rosa!"

"Don't ya 'hey' me Dean Winchester! Thinner than a fence post without a word of notice! Sit down!"

Celia chucked to herself as Rosa's voice pushed passed Dean and into the yard. Even after the screen door shut with a snap.

…

Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Rosa finally needed a 'volunteer'. He quickly put himself to work, snatching up a platter of ceramic coffee mugs and a pot of black Nevada coffee. The elder Winchester detached himself from the buzzing of Rosa Greer scolding him for lack of contact, for scruffy hair and dirty clothes and a hundred other things that only mothers would notice.

Dean swiftly retreated to the front porch where Elijah, Sam and Celia were all laughing at some joke that he had just missed. The two German Shepherds dead asleep on the porch with them opened their eyes, the albino thumping his tail happily at the sight of Dean before falling back asleep.

"Hey Dean." Sam chuckled.

"How long was I in there?" Dean muttered, balancing the tray on the railing and passing around coffee mugs.

"About…" Elijah twisted his wrist around to look at his watch, "Jesus, she's been chewin' ya two hours. Imogene should be comin' home soon."

"No wonder my head is buzzing." Dean grumbled, reaching up to rub his ear as he poured coffee into his mug then passed the pot over to Celia. She accepted it with a small smile, pouring into the ceramic mug before passing it along.

"Just tell me what I did?" Dean pressed, looking at them hopefully, turning to lean his back against the railing. "I want to know."

"If ya don't know then ya deserve to be hollered at." Celia snorted from her seat.

Elijah chuckled low in his throat, Dean rolled his eyes and Sam scoffed loudly as he poured his coffee. Celia's eyebrows went up.

"And what's that 'bout?" She asked, fixing Sam with her blood red eyes.

"Nothing." Sam waved her off, "Just, that's such a woman thing."

"Oh. Sam. No." Elijah hissed.

"Excuse me?" Celia asked, looking completely affronted.

"No, Celia, Sam's right. That really is a woman kind of thing to say. I don't think that I deserve to be yelled at because I don't know what I did. That's bull." Dean agreed.

Celia snorted, scoffing a laugh, "Ya can't be serious." They all twitched around and twisted at the hissing squeal of an old, faded school bus ground to a stop just outside of the gate, they watched for a few seconds until they tell that the girl getting off was Imogene, then returned to their coffee and conversation.

"I think I am." Dean said, lifting his head and cocking his eyebrows up.

"Boy, ya are walkin' on a rattler." Celia's eyes flashed, she puffed to start a full on argument.

Then they jumped at the sound of Imogene's shoes slamming into the wood of the steps.

Dean and Sam had expected a squeal of happiness and full on tackle from the youngest Greer, they looked around at Imogene in surprise. Her dark, chestnut hair was tied up in a pony tail much like Celia's, wearing a knee length jean skirt and a white tank top, she looked much older than the twelve years that she was.

"Genie?" Sam asked carefully. Startled by the pure rage in Imogene's dark blue eyes and the way her face was flushed with anger and scrunched.

She let out a small frustrated scream, slamming her shoes into the wood, literally stomping up to the door, not even looking at them, yanked open the screen door, stormed inside slammed it loudly. They could hear her thundering through the house and crashing up the stairs. Elijah, Dean, Sam and Celia all stared at each other in surprise, twitching at the sound of a door crashing shut with such force it made the windows rattle a little.

"The hell?" Elijah growled, the four of them set their coffees down and started for the door and the stairs to follow Imogene.

"What's goin' on in there?" Rosa hollered from the kitchen.

"Nothing." Sam called back as the four marched up the stairs, Dean in the lead. He trotted up to Imogene's shut door. He rapped his knuckles on the wood then reached for the knob. It refused to turn under his hand.

"She locked herself in." Dean muttered. "Imogene!"

"Go away Uncle Dean!" Imogene literally screamed from the other side of the door.

"Open the door, Genie." Dean ordered.

Silence met his command. Dean sighed.

"She's not going to open her door." The elder Winchester said over his shoulder to Eli, Sam and Celia crowded at his back. Dean dug into his pocket, rooting out his lock pick and dropped down onto one knee, he slipped the pick into the lock on the door and started to fiddle and twist it. In the thirty seconds it took to crack the lock Imogene must have heard him working.

"UNCLE DEAN DON'T PICK MY LOCK!" Imogene screamed so loud it sounded like her lungs burned.

"What's this hollerin' 'bout?" Rosa called up the stairs.

"Nothing!" Sam called back as Dean rose to his feet, turned the knob and pushed open the door. He had half a second to doge a pillow chucked straight at his head.

"Imogene!" Celia snapped warningly at the twelve year old with her face buried in her last remaining pillow, stretched out on her stomach on her mattress.

"Go away." Imogene pleaded.

Celia pushed passed Dean and sat on the edge of the mattress. In a swift movement yanked the pillow away. Imogene snarled angrily and glared at the red head woman.

"Imogene, what the hell is wrong with ya?" Celia growled.

"I don't want to talk 'bout it-"

"Ya forfeit the option to 'not talk 'bout it' when ya act like a brat." Elijah said calmly. Imogene looked between the three men standing just inside her room.

"Make them go away." She pleaded to Celia.

This made the four adults look around at each other in surprise. Imogene had never requested someone to leave the room. It worried the boys why she would only want the company of another female.

"Why? 'Genie did somethin' happen at school?" Celia asked gently. Imogene refused to look up. "Is there a problem with a boy? Is that why ya want Dean, Sam and Eli to leave?"

The three men were tense, too ready to hunt down and slaughter whatever preteen boy had made Imogene so miserable. The cause for her suffering would play a major part if the kid only got scared or was dead.

Imogene bristled then exploded.

"Josh Carmichael made fun of me when I said I wanted to be a police officer! He said that only guys get to be police officers!" Imogene practically screamed.

"Derrick Carmichael's son?" Elijah asked and a frustrated Imogene nodded

"He said I should just shut up, that girls shouldn't talk and aren't anywhere near as good as boys. That boys are better at everythin' and girls don't have much use 'cept to be told what to do and doin' it."

"Sounds 'bout right comin' from the son of a man that puts his wife in the hospital once a week." Elijah spat. Dean and Sam bristled.

"Hey y'all! Dinner!" Rosa called from the stairs. No one in the room moved.

Imogene slumped down into her mattress and muttered something that sounded like 'm not unngry'. Celia looked at her brother and the Winchesters.

"Ya boys go a head, we'll be down in a bit."

Elijah nodded, setting a hand on a reluctant Dean's shoulder and steered him out of the room. Sam was already half way down the hall after Celia said for them to leave. A last glance back, Dean saw Celia lightly rub Imogene's shoulder and lean towards her.

Rosa was setting a large platted of fresh baked bread on the table next to a ceramic bowl of home grown salad. Sam was enlisted by Rosa Greer to extract a massive beef pie, the golden crust flaking invitingly, from the oven and set it on a folded cloth on the table. Rosa Greer was a slightly over weight motherly type of the Native American breed. She was a full blood Cree Indian, copper skin starting to crinkle and fold around her eyes and lips, her ebony hair tied back into a long, traditional braid interwoven with a string of small beads. Her eyes were warm chocolate pools, hands small and gentle and she moved in a way that Dean could only associate with the way he remembered Mary moving. Rosa Greer had a classic beauty that didn't match up with the two pregnancies and being a rancher.

Rosa dressed much like a ranch mother: pretty light colored sundresses or jeans and shirts, that afternoon a flowy butter colored dress that flared around her knees, and as always she went barefoot. Her right calf was tattooed with striped bars of blue and a small line of dots trailing down to her ankle. Rosa's hips swayed as she set a large pitcher of lemonade and settled herself at the head of the table.

"Where are the girls?" Rosa asked.

"They'll be down in a minuet." Dean assured sliding into place across from the empty seat he knew Celia would take. Sam settled in next to him, nodding agreement.

"What are they doin'?" Rosa asked.

"Nothing." Sam put out.

Rosa fixed them with a look of pure mother suspicion. Elijah simply avoided her, Dean dropped his face to look at the table and Sam tried hard to meet Rosa straight in the eye with little success.

"There seems to be a whole lot of 'nothin' goin' on 'round since ya boys showed up today." Rosa said in a tone clearly accusing them of keeping something from her. She started to push herself up but Celia guided Imogene into the room, the mother sinking back into her chair as Imogene and Celia took their places.

Dean looked at Celia, his eyebrow raised in question, she ignored him.

"Glad ya decided to join us." Rosa said, cocking her head to the side. "Care to say grace?"

"Yes ma'am." Celia said, dipping her head and swiftly saying a prayer. Dean watched her face, looking for any signs of a flinch. There was a very minor grimace, well masked, looking much like a twitch. Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye, trying to see if Sam had noticed it. Dean sighed, a little worry spiking in his chest.

Celia was becoming more sensitive, flinching at prayers and the name of God. She was even starting to sneeze or have a minor allergic fit when she was to close to holy water. It worried him, the demon was getting stronger.

In a few seconds they were digging into the food, Dean and Sam singing Rosa's praises until she was smiling warmly and Elijah was rolling his eyes heavenward every few seconds. Eventually the meal started to wind down everyone settling back to digest and talking casually. This was one of Sam's most cherished moments in the Greer households. The Greers were far from the all American family, single parent with a son to one dead father, a daughter to god only knows who and an adopted child possessed by a demon, but they were happy. And one of the things Sam had wanted all throughout his childhood was the feeling of a 'normal' family, ones that ate big meals every night, talked and laughed and cried for hours on end together afterwards like he saw in family movies. The Greers were that family and he felt blessed that they welcomed him and his brother into their fold unconditionally. Sam couldn't help but smile warmly at Elijah right next to him, the elder Greer quirked his eyebrows at Sam and shook his head, but Sam got a smile back.

Dean helped himself to a third cut of the beef pie, crunching the crust happily.

"Slow down, ya'll make yerself fat." Rosa scolded him good naturedly.

"I can afford it if it tastes like this." Dean purred, "I don't have an ounce of fat below my neck."

"I agree." Sam said with a smile and received a punch in the shoulder.

"Settle." Rosa ordered to them before turning toward Celia and Imogene on the other side of the table. The youngest was only swirling the food around on her plate. Rosa observed for a few quiet seconds before setting her napkin aside.

"Alright, what the hell does 'nothin' mean?" Rosa asked. Celia, Elijah, Sam and Dean looked between each other. Imogene sighed, her small chest expanding then collapsing again.

"Josh Carmichael said that boys are better at things than girls and that I was being stupid for wanting to be a police officer." Imogene muttered.

"Well." Rosa said with a tinge of growl in her voice. "Y'all know 'bout this?" She looked around the table. The three men and Celia nodded.

"I spoke to her about it." Celia said.

"'Genie ya understand that's bull now, right?" Rosa asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, ma'am." Imogene muttered, but it sounded like she didn't.

"I wouldn't say its all bull." Dean muttered, everyone at the table stared at him. Dean looked around at them. "What? It's true; there are some things men can do better." He said defensively.

"Like what?! Standin' up in front of the toilet!" Celia snapped, slamming her glass on the table and cutting Rosa off from laying into Dean. Rosa Greer settled her elbows on the table, linking her fingers and resting her chin on them to observe.

"Celia, its true-"

"Look Dean Winchester, I've always known that yer a womanizin' skirt-chaser but this sexist streak, wherever the hell it came from, is far from attractive!" Celia snarled at him from across the table.

"I hate to say it but I agree." Sam interjected. "Statistically there are some things that males dominate and excel at over females."

"Sam." Elijah said his name like a sympathetic warning, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You can look it up. Females are more likely to excel in roles like veterinary, medical care, education. The traditional things that women have done for centuries. Men rate better when it comes to more physically challenging things, athletics, politics, physical labor. Its in the numbers." Sam argued calmly, dipping into his few years of training at Stanford to stick to facts.

"Oh, so women can only do the dainty shit, huh? Not strong enough to mix cement?!" Celia spat it out dangerously.

"I'm just stating the facts." Sam said shrugging and wishing desperately that he had just kept his mouth shut. The playful argument on the porch had taken a dangerous and bad turn.

"Absolute shit. Fuck that noise." Celia snarled, baring her teeth at Sam.

"Alright, Celia. Tell me one thing, one _man's_ thing that women can do better. None of that shit about childbirth. Tell me one." Dean said, getting to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. Celia's chair rattled as she practically kicked it back. She glared at Dean, getting right in his face over the salad.

"One thing." Dean pressed, smiling smugly as Celia continued to lack a response.

"Layin' fence." Celia returned with a puff of air out of her nose and a smile on her face tat made it very clear that Celia knew something he didn't. The Winchester brothers were startled at the small explosion around them as the Greer family broke into a chorus of argument. From what they could get of it Elijah was barking disagreement, Rosa was agreeing with Celia and Imogene was yelling about how some of her friends said the same thing.

"Now that is bullshit!" Elijah barked, "I'm with the boys on this. There ain't no way a girl can lay fence better than a man!"

"Men are absolutely useless with fences! It's a fact!" Celia pounded her flat hand on the table. She was smiling, clearly thinking she had won the argument. "Absolutely useless!"

"Yes." Rosa agreed.

"No, Mama. That's bull shit! Dad and I had to lay fence all over the place." Elijah argued.

"And I had to go back over it!" Celia barked.

"Yer father wasn't much of a man for fence either, Eli." Rosa sighed.

"What!?!"

"Men can't do fence." Celia shook her head, sniffing in Dean's face.

"Mrs. Turner said Mr. Turner couldn't put a post in straight." Imogene chirped.

"It's somethin' 'bout all the wire, messes with their minds." Celia barked, waving her hands around her temples, obviously making 'crazy' motions.

"Fencing isn't really a man kind of thing." Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah it is!" Elijah bellowed.

"Yeah, Sam, what's more 'manly' than sweaty hours puttin' steel spikes or wood rail road ties into the earth, stringin' mesh and barbed wire in between? Marking yer territory with all the phallic metaphors." Celia cocked her head and shrugged with a wolfish grin.

"Ain't a girl out there that can lay fence better than a male." Elijah snapped again.

"Shut up, Eli." Imogene sighed.

"Prove it."

The chaos died. Celia looked up into Dean's face.

"Prove it. Let's do it." Dean said, pressing his point. He stepped forward until his hips were pressed into the edge of the table; it was the only thing keeping him from getting right in Celia's face.

"What a battle of the sexes via fence?" Celia snorted.

"Exactly." Dean sniffed back.

"Well." Rosa said after a long second. "It happens that that piece of property I bought from the Martins needs fencing. Off on the west side. Eli was going to help Red-"

"_She_ was goin' to help _me_!" Elijah barked, his pride taking a beating. Rosa silenced him with a glare and Celia threw him a smug smile.

"They were goin' to do it this week before Eli went back over." Rosa continued calmly. "Its nine miles square, three by three. Tomorrows Saturday and I figure with all yer blood boilin' ya can do it in a day."

"Already got the posts and wire." Elijah muttered sulkily.

"And it's marked." Rosa said. "Go to it. Ya boys against 'Genie and Red."

"Three against one and a half is hardly fair." Elijah said, slipping in a tease about Imogene being the only one the room that hadn't experienced their teenage years.

"I agree." Celia said, "Two people who know what their doin' against three who don't, yer not givin' 'em much of a chance, Mama."

"You-" Dean started.

"I said go to it." Rosa growled and she pushed herself up, gathering a few plates and turned towards the sink. Dean and Celia looked between each other as the rest of the table gathered up their dishes and pulled them to the sink, each offering to help wash and dry and each of them being declined. Celia nudged Imogene along until they were in the living room they stood side by side, arms crossed across their chests almost identically.

"So, ya boys willin' to get stomped on by a couple 'girls'?" Celia sniffed, drawing out the word 'girls' like it was said by a ten year old boy in fear of cooties.

"Ya take east and north, we'll take west and south." Elijah snorted in her face. "And trust me, I'll be the only one polishin' my stompin' boots."

"Big talk big brother. Want to make it interestin'?" Celia twitched her eyes to Dean, knowing all to well that Dean simply couldn't resist a challenge, much less a bet on one. Dean lunged at the chance like a wolf on a lame rabbit.

"Stakes?" Dean crossed and pushed right into Celia's space; if she had been standing alone he would have been pacing around her.

"Whichever sex finishes in the shortest amount of time with the better fenced line gets a night of their lives from the others. Dinner, service, entertainment."

"Entertainment?" Dean growled.

"G-rated of course." Celia sniffed back, "Personally I wouldn't like watchin' anythin' better than ya boys muckin' out, hosin' and scrubbin' out all the stalls in the barn." Celia grinned maniacally.

"And givin' Strawbury a bath for me." Imogene chirped happily.

"And you'd sure look good washin' my car." Dean growled back. "Done."

"And done." Celia agreed, "C'mon 'Genie. This time tomorrow ya'll now all 'bout how doesn't matter if yer male or female."

"That and we'll have whomped 'em good, too." Imogene giggled and bounded up the stairs to get ready for bed.

"Yer encouragin' her." Elijah muttered.

"And all that bull shit sexism ya _men_ have been spittin' since dinner gave her the idea that bein' a female is a limited role." Celia snapped back and marched up the step with her head thrown back.

The men settled a little and looked at each other.

"Dean, I think that was a stupid idea." Sam muttered.

"Why?" Dean sniffed, cocking his head.

"Because we don't know shit about putting up a fence." Sam sighed.

Dean snorted, "Whatever, we got Eli."

"Yeah, nice to be appreciated." Elijah sighed and started for the stairs himself. "Go to bed, we're up at five."

"A.M.?" Sam rasped.

"Yeah, so shower and hit it." Elijah ordered, as he spoke the sound of running water bubbled over head. Dean and Sam looked up, wondering which of the two girls was in the shower and hoping that they were using Rosa's shower and giving the men the chance at the upstairs shower.

"You want to-" Sam looked around, barely catching the sight of Dean's heels as he bounded down the hall and the sound of the downstairs bathroom shutting with a snap and Sam sighed, rolling his eyes heaven ward and wondering if there was any chance that he would get some hot water. The younger Winchester turned and walked back into the kitchen where Rosa was starting to towel dry dishes. He didn't speak but took up a dish rag and started on a plate.

Dean forced himself to sit up. He rubbed a hand roughly through his cropped hair, wondering how horrible it looked. Her let his eyes adjust to the dark and heaved a deep breath, he let his hand slip down to his chest, scratching at his bare skin. His fingers briefly grazed over the gold charm and the bone carved otter. Dean reached out blindly in the dark, searching for his cell phone on the side table and flipped it open. Pale blue light illuminated his face briefly and he blinked at the time. In a few minuets it would be midnight.

_Like clock work…_Dean thought, pushing himself up slowly with a little strain in his muscles. He shook off the stiffness in his legs, reaching for the white tee shirt he knew he'd abandoned at the foot of the bed. Dean pulled the cool, white fabric over his head and down his torso. The fabric hung loosely, below his hips over the light weight plaid flannels. The first few steps were shuffled, steadying out as he stepped out of the first floor guest room. The elder Winchester sighed, carefully maneuvering around fixtures along the wall and made his way as silently as he could up the stairs. He passed the second floor guest room, glancing in on Sam sprawled akimbo on the mattress and quilt and snoring quietly.

Dean went on silently passing Elijah's room to Celia's at the end of the hall, the same way he had almost every night spent in the Greer household since he was ten, that first night Nathaniel had died. He rubbed his knuckles across his face as he nudged the door open and crept in. He blinked at the light of the small, antique fish tank on her desk. Dean watched the two blue fish swim little circles and nip at their gravel and plants. Dean set his cell phone next to the tank.

He walked quietly over to Celia's bed, making out her small frame wrapped up in her quilt, back to him and the door.

_That's different…_Dean thought to himself. Celia suffered from severe hypervigilance. She always sat with her back against a wall, never spent more than a few seconds with her eyes focused on one thing and she hated having someone walk behind her. Even in sleep Celia kept her back at the safest place, against the wall of her room so when she opened her eyes the first thing she was her door. Always alert, always on guard, tense and ready to snap into action.

It was exhausting for her, that much Dean knew for certain. It was strange to see her back exposed.

Dean reached out and lightly touched her shoulder.

"Celia, it's me." Dean whispered.

She moaned, muttering and curling up tighter on herself. The quilt shifted up to cover her face.

"Celia. C'mon." Dean reached out and lightly ran his fingers over her exposed horn, taking in the fine and narrow ridges.

"Back downstairs…" Celia muttered, half asleep. "Yer…a bastard…"

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Celia-"

"No." It was the same groan that all humans with red blood made in the morning their first few seconds of the alarm screaming into life.

"Celia, I'm sorry 'bout everything earlier." Dean pressed, carefully easing himself down onto the edge of the mattress. "I was just kind of being…aggressive…I guess….I'm sorry…"

No movement, no answer. Dean actually assumed that she might have fallen asleep again. He nudged her hip hopefully.

"Celia…M'amin?"

He jerked his head back to avoid getting back handed. Celia swung her arm limply around, clawing blindly at her quilt, finally getting a hold of the edge of it and flinging it back. Dean smiled. Celia's birth name had always been a password to anything he wanted. Like Sam's puppy eyes.

"I'm too nice…" Celia mumbled, already starting to fall back asleep. Dean didn't respond, easing down onto his back next to her. Dean could fell the distance between them. The elder Winchester shoved himself up on is elbow, leaning forward and resting his chin and jaw on her side. He could feel her ribs through the light tee shirt fabric against his throat, the steady rise and fall of her torso in breath.

"Celia?"

No response.

"Celia?"

She grunted, making his head jerk a little. He actually snorted a small snicker at the feeling of the grunt.

"Celia, you're-"

"Go to sleep or I kick ya out, Ahote." Celia warned giving him a light elbow in his stomach. Dean grunted, panting once to catch his breath, then settled down, comfortably pressed into her side. He mechanically reached around and tugged the quilt over his legs, already drifting into unconsciousness. In a few minuets their breathing had evened out.

…

Something large and warm wrapped around the back of Dean's neck, tangled in his short hair, and yanked him hard backwards. He muttered a yelp as he pitched over the side of the mattress and slammed into the hardwood floor with a sickening thud.

"Ya gotta quit sleepin' in my sister's room." Elijah growled, promptly planting a boot on Dean's stomach as he walked over the elder Winchester like a living speed bump. Dean gasped, breaking into a fit of coughing trying to catch his breath once Elijah had passed.

"That was uncalled for Eli." Celia called after the elder Greer; Dean blinked his eyes open and looked around in the dimly light room. Celia had abandoned in the bed and was tightening up her boot laces, Dean blearily registered that she was in work clothes, worn jeans and tee shirt and her favorite red plaid flannel shirt. Dean roughly rubbed a hand over his face.

"What time is it?" He muttered wearily.

"Four thirty." Celia sighed stretching and gathering her cell phone and slipped it into her pocket. She had actually started carrying it around since the only contact she had with Dean and Sam had become over the phone lines. She grabbed a pair of fleece lined leather gloves, tucking them into her back pocket and snatched a bandana from a draw, tying the red fabric around her head. The bandana didn't hide her horns very well, they ridged up under the fabric and the tips had already started to curl in towards her ears. In a month or two they would be to big and heavy for Celia to lift and turn her head easily. Elijah had mention at dinner the night before that he would shear them down before heading back overseas. Dean vaguely remembered himself and Sam jumping immediately in to offer their help with the nasty business.

Celia walked over and nudged Dean's side with her boot.

"C'mon, yer not hurt. Get up and get dressed."  
"Why?" Dean asked then it hit him like he had the floor. "Oh God, that fence thing…"  
"Boy, don't talk big shit unless yer ready to pull it out." Celia said and promptly walked on his stomach to get out her door, leaving the elder Winchester coughing for breath before forcing himself into action; making his way down stairs to pull on jeans and a tee shirt, he rummaged out a flannel and pulled on a pair of work boots he left at the Greer home.

Rosa had no reason to get up on a Saturday morning, Millie Lynch was working in the general store until Rosa made her way in at ten. So the kids had to make their own breakfast.

Dean pulled out a ceramic bowl, filled it with dry cereal and graciously added milk from the Guernsey cow that had just recently had twin calves. The elder Winchester stepped over Valentine, then Buckshot and finally maneuvered around Rosie the Red Fur calf that was headed more towards the heifer part of her life span and would be to big to be allowed in the house anymore. She was already standing well passed Dean's hip in height.

The elder Winchester set his cereal down and before he could even settle himself Rosie arched her neck over the edge of the table and dug her noise into the bowl.

"Goddamnit!" Dean barked.

"Rosie!" Celia snapped, grabbing a hold of the leather collar around the calf's neck and hauled Rosie towards the door, he mooed unhappily as she was thrown out side. Imogene giggled over her eggs as Dean dumped the cereal into the sink with a growl.

"Should have eggs." Imogene giggled, "Rosie doesn't like eggs."

"Can't you get a normal dog?" Dean growled back, pouring himself a cup of coffee and new cereal.

"I want a Golden Retriever." Imogene chirped.

Elijah and Celia both made gagging noises. Imogene puffed a little.

"Just 'cause it ain't a herdin' dog doesn't mean their not worth anythin'!" Imogene growled.

"What the hell are ya gonna retrieve!?" Elijah sniffed back, "We live in a desert, ain't a duck stupid enough to come here."

"Drop it." Celia ordered. Sam trotted in and took Dean's lead, pouring a bowl of cereal but ate it standing.

"Ya want the truck or the twins today?" Celia asked the men in general. Dean and Sam cocked their heads in confusion.

"What do ya want fellas? Flesh or machine?" Elijah asked, patting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Machine." Dean said, still unsure.

"Yes!" Imogene said happily, shoving her plate away and leaping to her feet. She was dressed in work jeans and a tee shirt with a pony on it, her grabbed a baseball cap with a horseshoe stitching and tore out the door. Valentine and Buckshot scrambled to their feet and bounded after her, shoving the door open with their shoulders and bounding out into the yard with deep chested barks.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked Celia.

"I asked for hauling gear wither you wanted Bonnie and Bo or the truck, ya guys chose truck."

"You mean we could have chosen the Belgians?" Sam asked, Celia nodded, Sam snarled something and smacked Dean in the back of the head.

"Better load up, it' almost five boys." Celia said it tauntingly, sliding Imogene's plate and her empty coffee cup into the sink.

"Aren't you hungry?" Dean asked. Celia snatched and apple from a basket and bit into it suggestively. Dean shifted looking after her. Elijah smacked her hard across the back of the head.

"Quit hitting me!"

"Stop with the eyes, Winchester." Elijah snapped warningly and dumped his bowl into the sink, pulled on his ball cap and started after his sisters.

The brothers rushed the rest of their cereals and headed outside. Eli had backed Celia's white Silverado up towards the storage shed off of the barn. Sam resisted the urge to jog over to Homewrecker, the painted mare nickering loudly at him.

The brothers looked around for the girls in the still darkened yard and saw no sign. Dean and Sam moved towards Elijah and within a few seconds had pulled on leather work gloves and were heaving massive bundles of six foot iron fence stakes and rolls of wire and several coils of barbed wire, tossing them mercilessly into the bed of Celia's truck. Elijah tossed a couple of hammers, three boxes of pinner nails and three of wire fencing ties. With Sam's help the eldest Greer drop three, eighty pound bags of cement, a white plastic bucket, a metal pile driver and a shovel. And finally a steel cooler of water of water and a plastic cooler of beer.

A high whinny made Sam and Dean looked up, already a slick sheen of sweat on their faces. As always the twins, Bonnie and Bo, were impressive in their brasses. The two Belgian draft horses were each eighteen and a half hands tall, well over Dean and Sam's heads. Smooth black leather harnesses and polished silver stood out against their sleek, honey colored fur. Each massive horse's head was easily as long as Dean's torso their hooves a few inches wider than an average dinner plate.

Bonnie and Bo swished their cropped tails and jogged towards the brothers, chomping at their bits, thick necks arched deeply and looking ready to lunge forward at command.

Imogene was sitting in the driver seat of the Greer's drag work cart of hard metal and wood, a flat bed of cowboy days gone by. Celia walked at the side of a massive metal wheel and went straight for the storage to gather the rest of the supplies while Imogene maneuvered the Belgian team around so they backed the wagon perfectly next to the truck.

"Want a little help?" Dean asked as Celia walked by. The red eyed woman flicked her eyes at him as she pulled on her gloves, grabbed a hold of the wire ties of a bundle of fence posts, with a breath outwards she lifted the two hundred pounds easily and carried it over to the wagon.

"Oh yeah, demon strength…" Dean muttered and earned a sharp slap across the back of the head when the small woman passed for another bundle of iron posts.

Imogene scrambled down and started working on the lighter part of the gear and helped pull and position things on the wagon.

"Let's go fellas." Elijah commanded and climbed into the front seat of the truck. Dean and Sam followed, throwing glances back at the girls.

"What about the railroad ties?" Sam asked.

"They're already in except for the gate posts. Red and I put 'em in a few days ago." Elijah revved the truck to life, put the truck into four wheel drive and rolled out into the yard and onto the road, road, turned west. Several later Elijah maneuvered the truck off road and rumbled along the Greer western perimeter fence for another nine miles before Elijah veered west again.

"They're here?" Sam asked leaning forward to look out Dean's passenger window where Imogene was pounding a iron post into place and Celia was a few yards along digging a hole for a round post, the post itself was lying on the earth. Bonnie and Bo dozing in their traces, Valentine and Buckshot sprawled on their sides in the grass, they scrambled up to their feet and barked loudly from next to the wagon.

"They could cut right through." Elijah shrugged and continued passed his sisters and off towards the northwestern point.

"Where do we start?" Sam asked.

"At a gate on the west side. Always start with a gate."

…

Imogene twisted around to watch Elijah and the Winchesters roll on another three or so miles out of sight.

"'Genie!"

The dark haired girl hefted with all her strength to pull the pile driver up over the top of the set post, dropped it and trotted towards Celia.

"Help me, sweetheart." Celia and Imogene maneuvered the first of two gate posted across the ground and tipped it into the hole, the sisters straining briefly to push it upright, in a minuet it was standing in the two and a half foot hole.

"Hold on to her, 'Genie." Celia said, turning towards the wagon, she pulled out the bucket and tugged over a bag of cement. Celia flipped open her switch blade and slashed across the paper and scooped out several pounds of cement powder filling the bucket over halfway.

"Red?" Imogene asked. Celia lifted her head and blinked at her.

"Whats on yer mind, honey?" Celia shifted the bucket around and twisted the tap on the tank, allowing the water to flow for a few long seconds before shutting it off.

"What's the deal with men?" Imogene asked.

Celia chuckled, carrying the bucket over and stirring it with her shovel. "'Genie, I couldn't tell ya if I knew."

"I thought we knew everythin' 'bout 'em?" Imogene asked, shifting and keeping the post straight, "And that they didn't know anythin' 'bout us."

"I think we're all in the dark, 'Genie." Celia hefted the stirred cement and poured half of it around the post into the hole, filling it up to two feet and a half feet. "Hold it there."

Imogene nodded and kept herself still. Celia scraped around the bucket, mixing the rest of the cement a little more.

"Why don't we know anythin' 'bout each other?" Imogene asked after a few minuets, giving the post a slight nudge, it refused to move, in a few more minuets it would be mostly set and would only take and hour to dry.

"'Cause it'd be too easy if we knew what we wanted." Celia laughed, then nodded Imogene towards the second post and hole

…

"Goddamnit Sam! Put in a post straight, will ya?!" Elijah growled. Dean chuckled as his brother's misfortune, nudging another shovelful of earth onto the quickly drying cement.

"I'm trying." Sam growled back and dropped the pile driver, using brute strength to twist the post in the earth until it was straight. Sam stood back with a sigh. Elijah gave him a look, crossed over and without any effort pulled the stake post out of the ground.

"Sonofabitch!" Sam hollered throwing his hands up.

Dean chuckled again.

"I don't see you putting one in!" Sam snarled at his elder brother.

"Hey, I'm doing my part." Dean shrugged. He hauled down a roll of fence and untied the wire stays and rolled it out. "Inside or outside, Eli?"

"Outside." Elijah stepped over and braced against the wooden post. He returned to the truck bed and brought out a coil of barbed wire and tossing it next to the roll of fence, he grabbed a hammer and stuffed his pocket with pinner nails. Dean lifted the end of the fencing, placed it against the wooden post and started nailing it down.

Sam grunted, replaced the iron post a few inches off the place it had been and lifted the pile driver up and over the post.

"Now twist it." Elijah advised. Sam grumbled but got the post in straight and facing the right way. He breathed a sigh of relief, lifted the pile driver off, grabbed the next post and trucked seven feet away to put it in. This time he got the post in correctly on the first try, instead of the fourth.

"How's Celia?" Dean asked. He tugged on the wire to make sure it was snuggly nailed to the post. Dean uncoiled the barbed wire, nailing the end into place with several pinners, tugging it for strength then nodded his approval. Dean and Elijah stepped away, rolling out the fence to the post Sam had struggled with; Elijah snatched up a box of fence ties and a pair of pliers. Dean picked up the coil of barbed wire and let it out as he walked the seven foot stretch.

"Ya pull and I'll wire." Elijah said, Dean nodded. "Not to hard on this first one, Dean. Gate post's not set all the way."

The elder Winchester nodded again, lifting the fence up and holding it up against the iron stake. Elijah nodded him to move down another foot of so.

"Pull a little." Elijah ordered. Dean gingerly leaned his weight against the wire. In few swift moves Elijah had wired the fence into place against the post.

"Careful with the barbed wire, Dean. Don't let it buck or ya'll be takin' it in yer face."

Dean lifted the barbed wire and tugged it taught without pulling on the set post. Eli swiftly wired it into place.

"Eli."

"Yeah?"

"How's Celia?" Dean asked again, kicking out the roll of fence and uncoiling the barbed wire.

Elijah sighed and looked off towards the west.

"Eli…Eli I'll take anything right now. Tell me she's alright, please?" Dean asked, slowing up to the next post. This time he pulled harder on the fencing, forcing it taught as Elijah wired it into place.

"Eli-"

"She's not alright." Elijah muttered.

Dean took a shaky breath, shifting his grip on the fence. He looked skyward, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

"No improvement at all?"

"She's takin' it easy Dean." Elijah returned, wiring the barb into place. Dean stepped back and kicked the fencing out, uncoiling barbed wire. "She hates it but with me home she's takin' it easy. That's all I can really say 'bout it."

"That' not a lot to go on, Eli-"

"Ask her yerself then."

"She won't talk to me."

…

"How come they never want to talk?" Imogene asked.

"What do ya mean?" Celia asked, wiring fencing into place.

"Eli never talks, Mama said Daddy only talked a little and Uncle Sam and Uncle Dean don't talk and if ya walk by a boy at school they don't talk either." Imogene leaned her entire weight on the fence, pulling it tighter and straighter than a grown man ever could.

"Men talk."

"I've never heard one, all they talk 'bout are cars and girls and guns and huntin'. They don't talk 'bout anythin' serious. Like they don't want to. And they never ask!"

"Since when did ya want to have a serious talk with a boy?" Celia scoffed, kicking out fencing while Imogene uncoiled barbed wire. They stopped at the next post, having set them all in from the fresh laid gate posts and the next eight foot wood post. Bonnie and Bo dozing next to it with their heels turned back. With fourteen iron posts between each eight footer and seven feet between each post, the first three miles were already looking short.

Imogene blushed a little.

"'Genie." Celia said sternly.

"Alright, there's a guy at school. He's got green eyes like Uncle Dean, but he's blonder."

"Name."

"...Jonas Lynch."

"A Lynch!?!" Celia barked.

"Not all of them act like Zeke! Look at Millie!" Imogene almost pleaded.

"Alright, alright. Yeah, I know Jonas, he's alright…"

"Yeah and I think he wants to give me a dogwood branch but…he never talks to me." Imogene pleaded. "I mean he talks to me but he won't _talk_ to me."

Celia nodded in understanding. Imogene sighed heavily.

"How do ya get Dean to talk to ya?"

…

"When we talk we fight." Dean growled.

"It's true." Sam said, pulling on the fence on one side, Elijah on the other while Dean nailed it into place in the eight footer. "Screaming, can hear him in parking lots from rooms."

Dean snarled at Sam, threatening him with the hammer for a second before returning to his pinner nails.

"'Bout what?" Elijah asked.

"Everything." Dean muttered. "Mostly about Hunting, our safety and that she wants us to just come out here and stay. Everything."

"Well hell that's just love, ya idiot." Elijah sighed, relaxing his grip on the fence and stepping back as Dean finished nailing.

Sam tugged out another bundle of iron posts, cutting them free and hauling one seven feet away and drove it into the ground, giving Dean and Elijah a short breather.

"We can't have one conversation, she gets pissed or brushes me off then I get pissed-"

"Dean, she's sick." Elijah said quietly. "Nathaniel's dead, John's dead, I'm in and outta Iraq more than bad news reports and there's a bullet out there somewhere with my name on it. To be honest ya boys are all she's got left and that shakes her up. Scared out of her mind."

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as they headed towards the next post.

"I can't stay." Dean said it with as much finality as he could manage.

…

"Do all men run off?"

Celia sighed, twisting the wire around the fence and pinning it into place.

"I mean my dad ran off, right?"

"Right."

"And Eli and his buddies are always going off to the war."

"They don't really have much choice but yeah."

"And some of 'em don't come back."

Celia sighed tiredly. "…Yeah."

"And Uncle Dean runs off on ya."

"'Genie. It ain't like that." Celia sighed heavily. "He doesn't run off on me."

"Yeah he does, he's never 'round and yer always pinin' for him."

"I'm not pinin'." Celia scoffed defensively.

"Yeah ya do." Imogene accused. "Yer always workin' that Chieftain colt for him."

"I work that colt 'cause he needs to be worked on." Celia growled, thinking of the yearling paint colt with Dean Winchester written on his registration papers.

"No, it's for DEAN." Imogene sing songed the name.

Celia growled under her breath and said nothing.

"But he runs off on ya anyway."

"Dean doesn't run off _on me_. There's nothin' to run off _from_." Celia said warningly. "'Genie, _good_ men don't run off. And Dean Winchester is a good man."

"Then whats he always runnin' off for?"

"He's a Hunter."

"So? That's just another kind of soldier. And they've got homes and girls to go back to." Imogene reasoned, pulling on the fence and easing up her weight when Celia motioned. The red eyed woman didn't speak.

"And yer like Mama says she was when Daddy went to Vietnam. Yer just another girl waitin' for him to come home."

"Imogene." Celia snapped dangerously, the twelve year old was quiet for a minuet.

"Ya worried he ain't gonna come home? Like those soldiers that get on with nurses-"

"That's enough Imogene." Celia growled, "Yer laggin' on the barb."

…

"_My blood runs cold! My memories have just been sold! Angel is the centerfold!"_ Dean howled.

"_Angel is the centerfold!" _Elijah and Sam caterwauled back, the three burst out laughing.

"God! I hate that song!" Dean snorted.

…

"Do ya think we're beatin' them on the fence?" Imogene asked passing Celia a hand full of wire ties. Celia stuffed them into her flannel shirt pocket. Imogene kicked her legs and sucked on a bottle of orange juice, sitting on the edge of the drag wagon. Celia twisted off the top of a Lager and slung it back in a second.

"Probably, those three have to good a time together." Celia said twitching and setting the beer a side. Bonnie and Bo crunched thick grass happily, swishing flies and kicking their heels. Every few minuets the two Belgians took a step forward, taking the wagon with them. Imogene grabbed a hold of the edge of the wood as it lurched forward a foot, the she relaxed when it settled. Valentine and Buckshot dozed on the sun warmed wood of the wagon.

"What do ya mean?"

"Boys like havin' other boys around."

"Like Mama likes to hang 'round with the sisterhood?"

"Yeah, 'cept even the boys don't raise that much hell." Celia laughed.

"Do they talk seriously? Like we want 'em to talk to us?"

"Oh yeah." Celia said. "Worse than some of those day time talk shows, with all the overweight women that lose hundreds of pounds or get over cancer or have those sex changes."

"Like Oprah?" Imogene kicked her heels.

"Is that ones of those shows?"

Imogene nodded.

"Then yeah, they talk like that."

"You don't know Oprah?" Imogene asked, blinking at the red eyed woman.

Celia shrugged, "I've heard the name. What? I work." Imogene shook her head.

"Whatever."

"Get up and get to work." Celia ordered, taking a small blow to her pride.

Imogene grumbled a little, rubbing a hand across her nose and pulling on her work gloves. "So they talk to each other like we want them to talk to us, right?"

Celia nodded, stepping around to unroll the fence further before lifting it up for Imogene to pull taught.

"How do we get them to talk to us like that?"

"A relationship of complete trust that blossoms over years of effort or grow a penis and start producin' testosterone." Celia advised, wiring the fence into place.

"Hard to say which one is easier." Imogene joked.

"I'll tell ya what." Celia snorted in agreement.

…

"It's too quiet."

Dean twirled a hammer around in his hands and Sam started at Elijah.

"You keep volunteering to go back over seas because _its to quiet_?" Sam blinked in disbelief.

"Ya get used to the noise. Ya get home and ya start gettin' itchy because yer waitin' for the rifle fire but it never comes."

"So you're saying that you just can't relax at home?" Dean said.

"I suppose." Elijah shrugged, hauling down a new roll of fencing.

"So you volunteer to be shipped out to a war zone so you can unwind?" Dean continued.

"And I like makin' a stand for my country, I belong out there." Elijah defended. "But yeah. Its to quiet."

Dean and Sam looked at each other.

"That's a hell of a vacation, Eli." Sam sighed.

…

"I can see the boys!" Imogene waved over her head, hoping to catch someone's eye. She whistled as loud as she could. Far off someone waved back and Imogene smiled happily, jumping down off the wagon and walked over to Celia.

"Do ya feel better yet?"

"Yeah, help me up." Celia took the twelve year olds hand, allowing herself to be pulled up to a sitting position and finally her feet from where she had sprawled on the grass. Celia shivered reaching out and supporting herself on the wagon for a second, catching her breath. Imogene watched her warily.

"I don't like it when ya do that, Red."

"I don't like it either."

"Should I call someone, Uncle Dean'll-"

"Imogene, don't tell Dean. Understand? Don't tell him."

Imogene was silent.

"Imogene."

"Alright."

…

"Eli."

Dean leaned back against the fence, pulling it taught while the elder Greer wired.

"Yessir?"

Dean hesitated.

"Boy, ya say 'nothin' one more time, I'll gut ya here." Elijah sighed, glaring around at the elder Winchester, then glanced up as Sam jogged passed to get back to the truck, the keys jingled in his hands.

"Ya been doin' this 'Eli', what, 'nothin' thing for the last hour." Elijah continued and wiped his fore arm across his brow and glanced up, the sun high above them. "We're over halfway through and I'll string ya on barbed wire if ya don't just spit it out already."

The rumble of the engine dulled Dean and Elijah's senses for a minuet as Sam drove the Silverado over the rough land down to the next eight footer.

Dean chewed his lower lip, then shrugged one shoulder as he took up the coil of barbed wire and started to walk away.

"Stop!"

Dean froze, stopping mid step. Elijah snarled viciously under his breath and marched around to get in Dean's face.

"What the hell is this about, Dean? Ya better talk to me because I might not be available for talkin' in a week and god knows if yer gonna get a chance afterward. So ya better take a chance now and speak, boy."

Dean shifted a little.

"Ya know I'm not gonna ridicule ya unless it's somethin' just foolish, Dean." Elijah assured, then lightly settled one of his large hands on Dean's shoulder. Elijah gave the shorter man a gentle shake.

"C'mon Dean, don't get tight lipped now, ya been talkin' this whole time."

Dean sighed rolling his eyes skyward, filled his chest them looked Elijah right in the eye.

"I made this deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Does it matter?"

"Probably."

"It doesn't." Dean said flatly, making himself physically sick from keeping the secret from Elijah. If there was anyone that Dean felt he could trust outside of Sam it was Elijah.

"Dean-"

"Just, let me." Dean pressed cutting Elijah off. The eldest Greer quirked his eyebrows. "Remember I promised that I would take care of them, no matter what." Elijah's head lifted and he narrowed his eyes at the eldest Winchester.

"Its one of those kinds of deals." Elijah said quietly. "The ones when ya get cut short?"

Dean shifted unsteadily.

"Yer a goddamn fool." Elijah spat.

…

"Look!" Imogene tore off across the earth, barreling toward Sam, Celia jerked back and out of the way as the barb wire bucked, swinging and slashing for her face.

"Imogene!" Celia barked.

"Celia!"

The barb wire snapped, cracking and tore into Celia's bicep. She snarled a string of dangerous curses and yanked off her gloves.

She glanced up as Dean and Elijah rushed towards her.

"I'm fine." Celia spat, jerking off her gloves, stripping out of her flannel and gingerly pushing up her tee sleeve. It was already starting to soak red with blood. A gash slashed diagonally across her bicep.

"Let's see it." Dean said, pulling her arm towards him in the quickly dimming light.

"Sorry Red!" Imogene squeaked and hugged Sam's arm tighter, looking worried.

"Don't take off like that, Imogene." Celia snapped and tried to tug her arm away from Dean's grip, she hissed in pain when he pulled her back. She flinched when he pushed it apart a little.

"Quit!" Celia snapped, trying to pull away and favoring her arm.

"Not exactly a clean cut. Deep, too" Dean muttered then tugged her towards the truck. "The first aid kit isn't in the truck."

"Head back." Elijah said tossing Dean the keys.

"Dean, the fence." Celia argued.

"We'll link up. That's all there is left anyway. Meet ya back at the house." Elijah assured and whistled at Sam and Imogene to follow. Valentine and Buckshot cocked their ears then trotted at their heels towards Bonnie and Bo, leaping up onto the wagon. The twelve year old throwing a look hopefully at Celia for forgiveness. Celia wave her off and jerked away from Dean as he tried to force her into the passenger seat.

"I can drive." She snatched the keys from his hand and stepping proudly around the truck to the driver's seat. Dean was somewhat thankful for this. The barbwire cut was on her right shoulder. He'd be able to fuss with it while she drove. It was exactly what he did, stripping off his flannel shirt and pressing it into the freely bleeding wound.

"Dean! Quit!" Celia swiped at him, cranking the Silverado engine to life, putting it into four wheel drive and churning out towards a gate gap in the newly laid fence. Dean ignored her, twisting around and sitting up in his seat to inspect the gash.

"Celia this it cut all the way to your bone!" Dean growled.

"Whatever."

"I'm stitching this up as soon as we get back." Dean said with as much finality as he could.

And hour later, Sam, Elijah and Imogene were walking the new fence line with Rosa, making notes of mistakes and taking full evaluation of their work. Dean and Celia sat on the front porch with cups of coffee, a bottle of Celia's favorite whiskey while a massive pot of shredded beef chili stewed on the stove.

After vicious verbal fight and Dean bit off the thread as close to Celia's bicep as he could before letting her pull her tee shirt back on over her bra.

"When it heals it's cutting into the tattoo." Dean sighed, running his hand lightly over the neat little stitches he made.

Celia shut her eyes and sighed.

"I'll re-ink it for you. When ever you're ready." Dean assured.

"Thanks." Celia said. They looked up when Rosa's jeep rumbled into the drive.

Elijah climbed out and slammed his door, Sam and Imogene on his heels. Buckshot and Valentine trotted across the yard up the veranda and flopped down into the dying sun light, thumping their tails happily at Dean and Celia.

"So, who won? Us right?" Dean asked, earning swat from Celia's good hand.

"Rosa!" Elijah spat. "She's a fuckin' coyote, I'll tell ya what!"

"What are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Mama took us for a ride!" Imogene growled.

"She played us, Dean. We did nine miles of fencing in one day for nothing. She said the whole fence looked fine, couldn't tell where we or the girls started. Couldn't judge it by default." Sam growled.

Dean and Celia blinked, shocked and twisted to watch Rosa walk across the veranda to the door with a smug smile on her face.

"Dinner in few." Rosa said and slipped through the screen door n out of sight. Celia broke into a small fit of laughter.

"I'll be dammned. That masters in psychology does come in handy." Celia laughed, smiling. "Sly dog."

"Did we learn what we were supposed to learn?" Imogene asked.

"Women are manipulative." Sam growled.

"And men are sore losers." Celia added.

"That we put up a good fence." Dean interjected. There were nods of agreement and Imogene sighed.

"I don't care anymore. Josh Carmichael's a man, that's the best explanation, but we all get taken for a ride when we try to prove who's better. Especially with fences."

The twelve year old trotted through the screen door and out of sight.

Elijah, Dean and Sam looked at Celia.

"We talked awhile out there. Fencing is good for the soul. Get a lot of stuff out in the open." Celia looked pointedly at the men.

"Yeah." Dean agreed, looking away from her.

"I'll take that as a victory." Celia said.

"I'm takin' a shower." Elijah snapped ill temperedly, "Nine goddamn miles."

"Me, too. Or just a nap." Sam followed on Elijah's heels into the house.

Celia looked around at Dean.

"You and Eli talk a little?" She reached up and rubbed her stitched bicep.

"A little. Didn't really solve anything…we've got a whole new problem." Dean sighed, remembering the fight between them earlier after Dean's half-confession. "He's really pissed at me."

"He won't be for long…but ya better solve it. Ya've only got five days to do it."

"I know…" Dean muttered.

"So what do ya think 'bout layin' fence?"

"It's a man's thing because of the work you do-"

Celia snorted, starting to speak. Dean swiftly cut her off.

"-But it's a woman's thing because of the stuff you do while you do it."

"The healin'?"

"You can call it that." Dean shrugged. "Therapeutic, yeah…"

"Any regrets?"

Dean hesitated, feeling sore muscles and aching joints. His hands and shoulders stiffened. He felt like he worked for a year without stopping. But Dean thought deeply about how much he and Elijah and Sam had talked and laughed for the last sixteen hours. How much they learned about each other. Thinking he would enjoy the same experience with the girls.

"I wish we'd all done it together."

"We'll do it like that tomorrow." Celia got up and started for the door.

"What?" Dean twisted to look after her.

"We've got a lot more fence to lay Dean, that was one pasture. We're trying to re-fence the whole property this week."

"What!"

"Yer gonna live and breath fence for the next five days." Celia called back as the screen door shut. Dean stood in complete shock.

"WHAT!?!"

* * *

**Uber long one-shot. I just kept getting deeper and deeper into it. Well read and review! Thanks ya'll!**


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